


Refuge

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Almost Fluff, Graves just wants a bit of quiet, M/M, Not quite hurt/comfort, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Graves is back in his office and at work finally after everything with Grindelwald has settled. He never anticipated that the humdrum of his department squabbling would be enough to drive him mad. Bad enough to make him wish he was back in the dark and quiet of his small cell. All he wants now is a bit of peace and quiet.





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing @thegaypumpingthroughyourvein who wanted a bit of quiet at work.
> 
> Not beta read.  
> Characters do not belong to me, only the typos and mistakes.

The chatter was unbearable. It was no different, no louder than _before_ yet it was still too loud, grating, and thunderous in its volume. It almost makes Graves wish he were back in the cramped corner of the dark dank cell where at least he didn’t have to listen to inane bickering constantly. Did the aurors seriously squabble so much over the last doughnut and whose turn it was to brew coffee? Their quarrelling took up more time and energy than someone just doing the coffee. Even is his door was shut Graves could still hear the murmur of grumblings and it was too much. Every so often someone would pop into his office with an absurd request or to personally drop off a report when they could have sent it via the usual methods. Graves didn’t understand their need to physically see him, to check that he had indeed returned to his job and was still there behind his desk. The mutterings outside his office increased to an inescapable dull roar and Graves doubled over his desk gripping his hair in frustration. He couldn’t cope with it. The noise, the pressure, the distraction. He rocked in his seat to try and drown it all out. There was no escape. He wanted to be back in the comfort of the small dark confines of his cell without the pain, terror, and hunger which had gnawed away at him.

Not even rocking calmed him enough as he slid lower in his chair, fingers entwined in his hair in an almost painful grasp. The chair’s seat was hard against his lower back and when he finally opened his eyes he was in the protective shade of the bottom of his desk. The solid wood on three sides provided a welcome constriction, lack of things to catch his eye and they shielded from the noise of the world at large. For the first time that day Graves could breathe easier. He pressed his back into the corner of the unrelenting wood and pulled his knees up against his chest. It was small comforts and as he bent his head down to close out all light from his face he muttered a silencing charm and his whole world fell silent.

It was as close to bliss as he’d been recently, the lack of noise, the lack of light and just something solid pressing into his back, grounding him to reality. In his bubble he missed his office door opening and an auror looking around confused. He missed the following one. When a couple of them called out for him. He didn’t hear the cry for a search go round. After some time he lifted his head and sighed as he tipped his chin up, head resting against the wood behind him. His fingers twitched restlessly. He’d already picked all loose threads from round his cuffs, spun his cufflinks repeatedly and picked at the hangnail on his thumb until it bled. Mindlessly he summoned a sheaf of papers and a quill. His hand moved on autopilot as he doodled. There was no rhyme or reason to the shapes he drew, abstract figures he coloured in, some he shaded some he scribbled over. His hands never stopped.

Graves wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting under his desk for. After some time he looked up from his filled pages of doodles. Newt was sat just outside his bubble of silence, back against the draws of the table as he quietly worked on his manuscript. Almost sheepishly Graves blinked at him, coming back to the world slowly. Newt must have sensed something changing as he glanced over his shoulder with a smile. Without a word a cup of coffee floated towards Graves who nodded his thanks. Newt simply nodded back with a smile and returned to his work. With a subtle wave of his hand the bubble expanded to include Newt and the sounds of quill scratching against paper was soothing in its monotony. Occasionally Newt would shift or sigh, his quiet breathing filling the gaps in Graves’ fragmented mind and proving to be a balm to silence his worries. Another small gesture had the report at the top of his file glide into his hand. Newt glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and a quirk of his lips but said nothing. In the peaceful quiet Graves decided he could get on with his work under his desk, appearances be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, I'm @ladyoftheshrimp


End file.
